Just One Dance
by Emo-Pirate
Summary: AU. Victorian Era. When his little sister gets an invitation to an old family friend's estate, young Charles Xavier goes along as Raven's escort, where he meets Erik Lehnsherr, who is as mysterious as the estate he calls home  based loosely on Jane Eyre
1. An Invitation

Title: Just One Dance

rating: T (rating will chance in later chapters)

pairing: Erik x Charles

summary: AU. Victorian Era. When his little sister gets an invitation to an old family friend's estate, young Charles Xavier goes along as Raven's escort, where he meets Erik Lehnsherr, who is as mysterious as the estate he calls home. (based loosely on Jane Eyre with Michael Fassbender and the multiple Victorian fanvids on Youtube. Will have many references to Jane Eyre and a few to other Marvel Universes)

LXLXLXLXL Ch. 1: An Invitation XLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLX

Charles groaned, rubbing his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Did his mother's fraudulent use money have no ends?

Well, Charles mused ironically, now it does. Madam Sharon Xavier of the old noble house of Xavier had died of what everyone thought was a long and drawn out illness of mysterious circumstances.

Charles called this "long and drawn out illness" simply one too many glasses of the fine brandy that Charles' father had left when he had died mysteriously three years ago.

The late Mr. Xavier had left the Xavier family with a flourishing estate, a large fortune, and over a hundred servants. Charles however, was left with little more than an estate that was slowly decomposing from lack of care, a fortune that had dwindled to almost nothing, an enormous debt, and four servants who were only there out of duty to the memory of Mr. Xavier.

The only reason they were able to still stay afloat and keep their sprawling mansion was because of a mysterious benefactor, whose checks came only with the letter "M" written on them in a scrawling, beautiful hand.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and when Charles looked up, he found the butler in the doorway.

"Ah, hello Alfred. Do you have something for me?" he asked pleasantly. Old Alfred had practically raised Charles.

"A letter, from an old friend of your father's, a Mister Erik Lehnsherr?" Alfred asked quizzically.

"Hm," Charles took the letter and let his eyes wander over the fine scrawl of letters that spelled out his own name, "never heard of him."

The handwriting on the letter was vaguely familiar, however Charles couldn't place where he'd seen it.

"You don't remember the Lehnsherr family?" Alfred asked, smiling at his young master. Charles shook his head. "Your father and Mr. Lehnsherr senior did business together for years. I believe Mr. Lehnsherr senior died quite a few years ago." Alfred chuckled, "You and Erik were as thick as thieves as little ones, though I doubt you'd remember. You were just a small boy at the time of Mr. Lehnsherr senior's death."

Charles thought back, and he faintly remembered a pair of green eyes and the flash of a toothy smile. "Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred bowed politely and backed out of the room. Charles opened the letter with one of his fine letter openers, and began to read.

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Charles entered the library, the letter in his waistcoat pocket. "Raven?" he asked, peaking around a corner.

"In here!" came a voice from the porch that overlooked the turned-over gardens. During the Spring and Summer, the gardens were an explosion of bright colors and tantalizing smells, however in the Fall, with Winter on the horizon, the gardens were bleak, brown and bare.

Charles walked out on the balcony, where his sister, Raven, sat in a reclining chair, reading a book-probably a trashy romance novel written by some sexually repressed French woman if Charles dared to guess.

Raven, despite her namesake being a rather ugly black carrion bird, was very pretty: large blue eyes in a round face, framed by long blonde hair that was currently curling undone around her shoulders.

"Raven, we have an invitation." Charles smiled as Raven dropped her book, sitting up and reaching out to take the letter Charles proffered to her. "From the son of an old friend of Father's."

Raven took the letter and her eyes flew over the elegant slanting handwriting. "Dear Mr. Charles and Miss Raven Xavier, I know you probably don't remember me, especially you Raven, but I am the son of an old business partner and friend of your late father. Though it grieves me to know that your mother…" Raven faded off as she continued to read quickly, "…my estate three hours from London…I know this season of the holidays is bound to be hard for you both so recently orphaned…" Raven's face lit up, "…and I'd be most honored if I could have your presence at my estate for this Holiday season. Please send by post your response. I look forward to your correspondence and our reunion. Signed, Mr. Erik Lehnsherr, esquire." Raven looked up at her brother, a huge smile on her lovely face, "Please Charles! Oh please!" She stood and twirled in her blue dress, her skirts swishing over the tile floor. "Think of it! Christmas parties, dinners with noble friends of Mr. Lehnsherr's," she winked at Charles, "handsome young noblemen for the both of us."

"Raven!" Charles scolded her. Of course his only sister knew about his preference to the less fair sex, however odd it may be. How could she not? Charles could read people like a book sometimes, and he knew the instance that Raven knew.

Raven stopped her giddy twirling, looking flushed and out of breath. "Well, Charles? Are we going? Or are you going to doom us both to stay here all winter." As if agreeing with her, a gust of cold wind whipped past them, making the pages of her forgotten book rustle.

Charles smiled."Alright, I'll send a reply promptly."

Raven's squeal of delight sent several birds chirping from the trees. Charles gasped as Raven hauled him to his feet, and twirled him around. "Dance with me, Charles!" she demanded.

Charles put one arm around her waist and with the other, he took her hand. They dance a haphazard waltz, their only accompaniment their mingled laughter and the sound of birds.

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That Saturday morning found them both shivering in the courtyard as two stablehands put the baggage onto the top of their little two-horse handsome. After the luggage had been strapped down and secured, both siblings crawled into the coach, and huddled under blankets, away they went towards Thornfield Hall, home of the Lehnsherr family.

As Charles half dreamed in his coach, nestled against his sister under their shared blankets, his thoughts drifted past the foggy woods, into places only the inquisitive mind could dream of. And a pair of bright green eyes that turned gray in the sunlight seemed to watch him from the gathering darkness.

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So...what do you think so far?


	2. In Which Chess is Played

Title: Just One Dance

rating: T (rating will chance in later chapters)

pairing: Erik x Charles

summary: AU. Victorian Era. When his little sister gets an invitation to an old family friend's estate, young Charles Xavier goes along as Raven's escort, where he meets Erik Lehnsherr, who is as mysterious as the estate he calls home. (based loosely on Jane Eyre with Michael Fassbender and the multiple Victorian fanvids on Youtube. Will have many references to Jane Eyre and a few to other Marvel Universes)

LXLXLXLXL Ch. 2: In Which Chess is Played XLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLX

"Charles! Charles wake up!"

Charles sat up with a start and an undignified grunt. His eyes smarted in the sudden brightness of the open coach windows. "What's wrong?" he asked automatically.

"Nothing." breathed Raven. Her smile was illuminating. "We're here."

Charles sat up fully and looked out the window. There, out of his window, stood Thornfield Hall in all it's heavy stone majesty.

It was indeed a fine building, built some two hundred years previous and kept meticulously by the Lehnsherr family, who had bought Thornfield Hall when they had moved from Poland during the time of the current Mr. Lehnsherr's grandfather.

"So we are." Charles mused. He turned and grinned at his sister. With a flourish, he opened the door to the carriage and made a graceful jump to the ground. Or at least, he tried to make a graceful jump to the ground. His leg must have fallen asleep while he slept, and with a shocked yelp, he hit the ground on his hands and knees, his nose an inch from the dusty ground.

Raven's infectious laughter brought him back to his senses. She clamored down from her perch in the handsome with much more grace than her brother, giggling under her breath.

"Need help?" She asked even as she hauled her older brother to his feet.

"Thank you." Charles smiled, patting down the knees of his breaches. "I suppose I just looked like an old man, didn't I?" he chuckled.

Raven grinned, and took her baggage from the coach driver. "Well," she looked thoughtful, "I suppose it's because you are and old man."

"Oh, is that right?" Charles asked in mock-distain, taking his own suitcase and walking cane. "Well at least I still have all of my hair, even in my old age."

Raven chuckled again as they made the short walk up to the gates of Thornfield Hall. "But who knows for how much longer."

Charles laughed with his sister, but still managed to casually run his fingers through his wavy brown locks and glance at his hand for loose strands, which of course there were none.

At the door, a very beautiful, exotically dark skinned woman waited. She introduced herself as Miss Salvadore, the "Mistress of the House", and lead them both inside.

"Alex will take your baggage up to your room." she insisted at the foot of the wide main staircase. She turned to the left, and in a shockingly loud voice, called out "ALEX!"

And almost instantaneously, a brawny young man with hair as blonde as a daisy's face came from what had to be the kitchen. He had dirt on the knees of his breeches, and his skin was tanned from the sun. The groundskeeper, Charles guessed.

"Alex, can you take Mr. and Miss Xavier's bags to their rooms?" Miss Salvadore asked, "Mr. Lehnsherr specified that they are both to be boarded in the Eastern Wing, and that Mr. Xavier was to be boarded in the room across from Mr. McCoy's room."

Alex took a moment to look both Charles and Raven up and down, one blonde eyebrow cocked. "Funny," he said, smiling cynically, "I thought you both were gonna be a pair of old maids."

"I beg your pardon?" Charles asked, blood rushing to his face.

Alex blanched, "I…I just mean that most of Mr. Lehnsherr's friends are…well…I mean he doesn't have many friends but you're young…and…" Alex's eyes flicked to Raven, "…handsome." he said after a pause. There was an awkward pause. "I'll…just take your bags."

With his shoulder's hunched, Alex hauled the luggage up the great staircase and out of sight. Charles followed the procession of bumps and scrapes from the ceiling as Alex hauled the suitcases to their respective rooms.

"Now, if you'll follow me." Miss Salvadore said after a pause. "I'll show you around."

"Miss Salvadore," Charles said, catching up to the woman.

"Call me Angel please. Only Mr. Lehnsherr ever calls me Miss Salvadore."

The house was sprawling, grand in a way that England hadn't seen in a long time. This sort of house was going out of fashion these days. Charles and Raven met the other staff, which was only a single other person, the gardener, Hank McCoy.

Charles knew the look on Raven's face when they were introduced to Hank, who had a long, elfish face with two bright bluish eyes and a muscular, lanky body. Raven's lips had turned up into a half smile, teeth showing, and her blue eyes glinted. Poor Hank, Charles mused, he's in for a wild ride if Raven decided she fancied him.

However, as Charles and Raven were led upstairs to freshen up, Charles realized there was one face he hadn't seen in their expansive tour: Mr. Erik Lehnsherr himself.

"Miss Salva-Angel," Charles corrected himself at the burning stare Angel shot at him, "where is Mr. Lehnsherr?"

Angel waved her hand as if it were no big deal. "Out riding I suppose. He could be gone for days at a time when he gets the urge to ride that blasted horse, Iron." as they reached the top of the stairs, Angel added, "If you get bored, feel free to walk the grounds. They're not very pretty this time of year, I'm afraid, but worth looking around. There's a bridge not far from here that has lilies beneath it." Angel added. "Here's your room." she motioned to a simple brown-wood door, "and this yours." she motioned to the opposite one for Raven.

The siblings thanked Angel, and she departed down the stairs, yelling for Alex again.

Charles tried puttering around his room for a while, reading a book, even reorganizing his clothes before finally giving up, pulling on a top hat and thick wool overcoat, intent on taking a walk of the grounds, as Angel had suggested. He knocked on Raven's door, with no success, and then, walking stick in hand, trotted down the stairs and through the front doors and out onto the beaten path that descended from Thornfield like a single lock of mossy brown hair.

The trees here were so much wilder looking than at Charles' estate-unkept, un-looked after. The path was laced with fungus and moss. Charles shivered as a cold damp air came up to meet him. He wandered aimlessly, kicking stones with the toes of his leather boots. He was snatched out of his thoughts when the stone he had just kicked landed with a _plop _into water.

Charles looked up and realized he had found himself at the bridge Angel had told him about. It was hardly a bridge however, more of an elevated bit of path over a small pond that was inexplicably completely covered in sudsy white lilies which bloomed even at this time of year. They cast up their fragrance like a soothing, tempting cloud which Charles followed eagerly with his nose.

He delicately slid down the bank of the pond and stopped at the edge of the water, looking at the flowers. The flowers were pure white, all of them identical in their elegant milkiness. The air was perfumed heavily and it made Charles' head pleasantly groggy. He sighed, taking a deep breath of air in.

"Excuse me!" a voice behind him made Charles jump…right into the lily pond.

Charles shrieked as he fell head first into the lily pond, startled by a voice behind him. When he looked up, he found himself being stared down by a man that deserved a full paragraph of explanation.

He had shorn dark hair and a sharp brow, under which lay two keen light green-gray eyes. His mouth was large, and pulled back in a half amused smirk that reminded Charles oddly of drawings of sharks in his biology textbooks. He wore rich clothes all in dark colors with bright silver buttons. He carried a riding crop in his right hand. He was much to handsome. Handsome was too little of a word to describe him, Charles decided. Adonis? Dangerous? Predatory?

"Who are you?" the man asked, and Charles started, realizing he had been staring.

"Charles Xavier." Charles stood promptly, took a step, and slid on a submerged rock back into the pond with an undignified yelp and an almighty splash.

The man leapt forward and held out an elegant hand for Charles to take. Charles slopped to the bank of the pond and the two of them stared at the other.

"Who are you then?" Charles asked peevishly. He was damp, uncomfortable, chilled and now he had some blasted handsome stranger smirking at him.

"I," the man said slowly, flashing his shark-like teeth, "am Erik Lehnsherr, your host I believe, Mr. Xavier."

"Ah." Charles said dumbly, eyes widening. So this was Mr. Lehnsherr then. "Well, I'm very sorry for falling into your pond, Mr. Lehnsherr" Charles' face screwed up and he sneezed magnificently. "I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, I'm sure the lilies didn't mind," Mr. Lehnsherr said, motioning to the pond, where the lilies were already drifting back to cover up the disturbance as if it hadn't happened, "and please call me Erik."

"Then I'm Charles. No Mr. Xavier to me, if you please." Charles said, trying to remove the miffed edge from his voice. This really was a miserable way to meet his host.

"What were you doing down here anyways? Visitors don't usually take to swimming here." Erik asked casually, walking back up to the road with Charles squishing along beside him.

"I was taking a walk, exploring. Your housekeeper suggested it to me." Charles explained, hoping he wasn't getting Angel into trouble for him.

Erik smirked again, and Charles decided that was this man's version of a chuckle. "Are you planning on continuing your walk, or shall I take you back to the Thornfield?" he asked, motioning to a great steel-colored horse standing mildly on the path, shaking its reigns.

"Well, in my current state, I suppose it would be best for me to go back." Charles decided, smiling up at Erik. Charles watched a slight color flood Erik's cheeks and Charles' brows shot up. Was Erik perhaps like him?

"In your current state," Erik mimicked Charles softly, "I think you should ride back with me. It can't be comfortable to walk all the way back what with your clothes so wet." Erik offered his horse to Charles.

"Thank you." Charles nodded.

Erik's lips turned into a small smile and he swung onto his horse. The horse whinnied slightly and wheeled and Charles took a step back. He had never liked horses. Erik must have seen the anxious look on Charles' face, because Erik tightened up on the reigns and offered a hand to Charles.

"He's safe." Erik said, "I promise."

Charles gave him a doubtful look as the horse pawed nervously, but took the proffered hand and let Erik pull him up into the saddle behind Erik. Erik's hand was shockingly warm-Charles had expected it to be cool, like the man's eyes. Charles settled awkwardly behind Erik, sitting on the horse's speckled rump, just behind the saddle. He fiddled awkwardly with his hands, not really knowing what to do with them.

"He's safe," Erik said, glancing over his shoulder, "but I would suggest holding onto me. I would hate to see you fall again."

"Ah." Charles muttered dumbly. He put his hands gently on Erik's shoulders, and felt the muscles ripple through the expensive wool overcoat. Erik cocked an eyebrow, as if saying 'That's it?' and Charles moved his hands around Erik's waist, pulling on the fabric across the other man's middle.

"Ready?" Erik asked.

Charles nodded. He felt the muscles swell under his fingertips and Erik flicked the reigns and squeezed his horse between his thighs. The horse shot off like a rocket, and Charles yelped, burying his face in between Erik's shoulder blades. Charles felt Erik's chest rumble in a laugh as the horse galloped through the woods, and in no time, Charles felt the horse slow beneath him as they approached Thornfield.

"Welcome back." Erik said as he pulled the horse to a stop. The horse whinnied, as if loathe to stop his furious gallop, and pawed the ground. Erik dismounted gracefully and held out a hand to help Charles again.

Charles slid less gracefully from the horse's back, and nearly fell against Erik. Charles blushed, and he saw Erik flush again.

"Thank you again." Charles muttered awkwardly, straightening his coat and reaching for his top hat. His top hat! Charles looked around, as if expecting it to be lying somewhere nearby. "Damn!" he cried, brows knitting together.

"What?" Erik asked.

"My top hat." Charles said, pouting. "It's nothing really…I must have left it at the pond."

"I'll send my gardener to find it." Erik replied promptly as they entered the little stable. Charles hadn't even noticed they had walked into the gloomy place. "Hank!" Erik yelled, "Hank!"

The wide eyed gardener appeared around the corner, dusting dirt off of his trousers. "Yes sir?" The boy's eyes found Charles', "hello Mr. Xavier."

"Hello Hank." Charles said smiling.

Hank took the reigns of Erik's horse and began to lead it back to its stall when Erik spoke, "Mr. Xavier left his top hat at the lilly pond under the bridge. Take Iron and go find it."

"Yes sir." Hank turned on his heel and led the horse back out. "It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Xavier." he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Charles nodded, and then glanced at Erik again. Erik around his servants was completely different. The voice had lost its softness.

"Now," Erik said. The softness was back, "let's get you out of those wet clothes, shall we?"

A shiver ran up Charles' spine at those words, and he enjoyed hearing Erik say that a little too much.

Charles sighed, heaving himself out of the bath that Angel had drawn for him. His clothes were drying on a chair nearby. The window was filled with steam, and Charles cracked it open slightly, glancing out of the window into the garden below as he dried himself with a soft towel. Hank was back, Charles noticed, and he and another man were pulling a stump out of the garden. The other man turned, and Charles realized it was Erik. Even from his perch in the tower where his bath was located, Charles could see the sweat glisten on Erik's forehead. Erik was smiling, and looked like he was laughing at something. He clapped Hank on the back and glanced up into the tower. Charles drew back, even though he knew Erik couldn't see him.

Charles wandered into his room connecting to the little washroom and puttered aimlessly, completely naked. He liked being naked, as Raven very well knew. Clothes were constrictive, and the temperature was so perfect in his room-cool enough to elicit goosebumps to rise on his skin, but warm enough to still be comfortable. He laid out his clothes, regarded them, and then picked out a new shirt and new necktie. He smelled food being made in the kitchen, and decided clothes were probably needed at this point.

As he was tucking in his shirt into his gray trousers, a soft knock sounded on the door.

"Raven?" Charles asked, smoothing out his lapels.

"It's Erik." the voice from the other side said. Charles jumped and practically ran to the door, flinging it open. Erik was still sweaty, and his shirt was undone to his ribs and there was dirt dragged across his sharp cheekbone. "Hello." he said in his soft low voice.

"Hello." Charles replied. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Do you play chess?" Erik asked.

Charles cocked his head. "Yes…why?"

"Come to my quarters after supper. I've been needing a new chess partner." Erik smiled, and Charles nearly melted.

"Alright then." Charles replied. "You won't be joining Raven and I for supper?"

"Oh no." Erik replied, "no I never have dinner in the dining room…I prefer to eat alone."

Charles saw a flash of darkness flicker across Erik's green eyes. There was a long moment of silence and then Erik spoke again.

"I'll see you after supper." And with that, he turned and disappeared down the long dark hallway.

Supper was quiet. As it turned out, Raven was holed up in her room, having discovered Erik's extensive library. And so supper was only himself and Angel. Angel ate quietly, absorbed in her own thoughts.

A muffled noise made Charles jump. It sounded like a woman's cry, very muffled and far away. Charles looked up at Angel, who glanced up tensely and then looked back down.

"How was your day, Mr. Xavier?" Angel asked.

"Good. I went to that lilly pond you spoke of," Charles chuckled, "and took an accidental swim."

Angel smiled, "Oh really?" she giggled, "I'm glad Mr. Lehnsherr was there to save you."

"Speaking of Mr. Lehnsherr, he invited me to play chess with him tonight…after supper can you point me in the direction of his quarters?" Charles asked.

"Of course." Angel said quietly. The cry sounded again and Charles looked up, slightly frightened. "The night-birds." Angel said, as if answering Charles' fears, "quite eerie in the middle of the night, I can tell you." Angel ducked her head, blatantly not meeting Charles' eyes.

Erik's quarters were in the Western wing of Thornfield, quite isolated from the rest of the inhabitants. The hallway was darker and gloomier than the rest of the mansion, and Charles felt a chill run through him as Angel led him to the great wooden door. Angel departed, leaving Charles alone in the gathering gloom. Charles steeled himself, and then rapped on the door.

"Yes?" came Erik's voice.

"It's me." Charles said quietly, as if the gloomy silence was holy somehow, and did not want to be broken.

The silence however was broken fantastically by the great oak door opening with a bang, and the entryway being filled by the lean shape of Erik Lehnsherr. Red light poured from his quarters, making him nothing more than a dark shape in the door for a moment, towering over Charles' small frame, and not for the first time since meeting Erik, Charles felt almost afraid of the man.

"Come in." Erik's voice was as warm as the red light from his quarters. Charles stepped inside as Erik moved aside.

Erik's quarters were vast, sprawling, and cluttered with papers, drawings, books, great dusty ledgers and an assortment of odd old-age weapons-a sword lay against the wall, forgot half buried beneath papers, and a helmet lay on Erik's desk by the huge window that looked over his estate, shrouded in darkness. A magnificent fire blazed hotly red in its great hearth, which was wider than Charles was tall. Like Erik, the fire was not exactly cheery, but hot, nearly scalding, Set between two huge throne like chairs done up in red velvet was a chess set and two crystal glasses.

"Does something about my quarters trouble you, Charles?" Erik asked softly close to Charles' ear. Charles jumped, face going scarlet, half because he had been caught staring, half because of the gust of warmth breath against his ear.

"No, sorry. I was just admiring it." Charles replied, glancing up and then promptly heading towards a chair.

Charles heard Erik's soft little chuckle, and then he watched the older man move across the room to a selection of spirits sitting atop a dresser. "What would you like?" Erik asked over his shoulder.

"Brandy, if you have it." Charles replied. Erik smiled again, and the firelight caught on his teeth.

"A man after my own heart," Erik said softly, returning to the chairs with a bottle of amber brandy in his hand, "or at least," Erik glanced up at Charles as he poured the brandy into Charles' glass, "a man after my own spirit cabinet."

Charles chuckled, and raised his glass, swirling its contents before taking a sip. It burned like liquid fire in the most fantastic of ways, the way good brandy warmed a man up inside and out, straight in the pit of his stomach.

"Cheers." he raised his glass to Erik before taking another sip.

"So," Erik said after he took a sip of his own brandy, "how much of an accomplished chess player are you?" Charles saw the dare in the cock of Erik's eyebrow, and the slight grin pulling at the corners of his wide sensual mouth.

"Oh very." Charles replied, cocking an eyebrow in equal challenge. "The best at Oxford, if I say so myself."

"Well," Erik replied, taking a pawn and running it through his fingers, "let us test that theory."

Charles had never fancied chess a sexy sort of sport, however by the end of their third match and almost an entire bottle of brandy later, Charles was sure Erik could make something as mundane as cricket sexy. The way that Erik moves his pieces, and the intimate way he held Charles' gaze while they played made Charles severely uncomfortable, especially below the waste of his trousers. Perhaps the copious brandy had something to do with it, but Charles had the sudden desire to lean across the little makeshift table and kiss Erik. Charles had to go.

"I'm afraid," Charles said quietly, "that I need to retire. It's well past midnight."

Erik looked almost disappointed, but covered whatever he was feeling with a sympathetic smile. "Of course. I am sorry for keeping you out so late."

They both rose and made their way to the door of Erik's chambers. Charles stumbled slightly, but caught himself before he needed assistance. "Oh no. Thank you for inviting me. It was…" Charles thought for a moment and flashed a surprisingly flirty smile, "stimulating."

Erik's face went lax with surprise, and then a frown suddenly furrowed his brow. Erik stepped forward, closing the slight gap between their bodies. Charles gasped, feeling the searing heat of Erik through his clothes against his chest, against his stomach, against his already befuddled groin.

Erik cradled Charles chin in his clever long fingers, and stared intently into Charles' eyes. His eyes were dark green, nearly gray, Charles mused in his haze of heat and alcohol. Erik leaned in so close, their lips were almost touching, almost, not quite. Never completely touching. Charles tasted the brandy on Erik's breath, could almost feel the press of hot lips on his own.

Charles eyes slid closed, every sense focused on the feeling of Erik so close to him.

"What are you waiting for?" Charles asked quietly, barely trusting his own voice.

"For things." Erik said softly, cryptically. "Good night, Charles."

The heat was suddenly gone, and when Charles opened his eyes, he found himself alone in the darkness, the door closed before him. His heart hammered like a frantic bird in his chest, and his head swam angrily, as if it were filled with bees.

Charles wandered aimlessly back to his room, perhaps getting lost two or three times, before finally somehow making it back to his own little room. He heard no noise from Raven's chambers, and so he went into his own, half crawling out of his own clothes, before collapsing onto the bed, asleep before he hit the mattress.

And once again, strange dreams plagued him- a pair of dark green eyes watching him from the shadows of the trees, and the sound of the haunted, wailing nightbirds, shrieking.

Sorry it took so long for me to update, but hey, a little bit of cherik right here! This is kind of a long chapter :) anyways, things will officially begin to pick up the pace now! Oh, and your welcome for that lovely teasing scene, straight out of Jane Eyre :) I hope you enjoyed this bit.


	3. In Which Heat is Inspired

Title: Just One Dance

rating: T (rating will chance in later chapters)

pairing: Erik x Charles

summary: AU. Victorian Era. When his little sister gets an invitation to an old family friend's estate, young Charles Xavier goes along as Raven's escort, where he meets Erik Lehnsherr, who is as mysterious as the estate he calls home. (based loosely on Jane Eyre with Michael Fassbender and the multiple Victorian fanvids on Youtube. Will have many references to Jane Eyre and a few to other Marvel Universes)

LXLXLXLXL Ch. 3: In Which Heat is Inspired XLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLXLX

Charles woke the next morning wondering if the almost-kiss he and Erik had shared last night had been a dream. He slowly touched his lips. They burned. No, Charles decided, it hadn't been a dream. He grinned and hopped out of bed, yanking off his clothes from last night and changing into a clean set, combing down his hair with his fingertips.

Charles waltzed down the stairs the next morning despite the brilliant headache that bubbled behind his eyeballs. Raven was already at the breakfast table, eating porridge and reading a novel, no doubt filched from Mr. Lehnsherr's great library.

"Good morning!" Charles quipped as he sat down, pouring a bowl of porridge for himself and sitting across from his sister. Raven looked up, cocking a blonde eyebrow. She slowly took in Charles' half giddy expression, and his wild hair. Without breaking her sleepy expression, she said,

"You kissed him didn't you?" A smile betrayed her tone, and she dropped her book, leaning forward as if conspiring with her brother.

Charles took a sip of coffee, and smiled coyly. "Not quite actually." Charles leaned forward. "He's quite an odd fellow, Erik."

"Erik is it? Tell me everything." Raven said, smiling.

"I'll leave it up to your lovely imagination, sister." Charles said, taking another sip of coffee. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going for a walk." He stood and hurried towards the door.

"A walk to find Erik!" Raven shot at her brother's retreating figure, laughing.

Charles waved her off, laughing along.

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Charles did indeed walk about the grounds, but did not find Erik until he wandered into the vast library. Erik was sitting on one of the little couches, reading some novel which age had worn away the title.

"Good afternoon, Erik." Charles said politely, sitting in the chair opposite. Erik glanced up.

"Good afternoon Mr. Xavier. Did your room suit you?" he asked.

"Quite well, thanks." Charles smiled, knowing how his eyes enchanted if he smiled just so.

Erik looked up again, not affected it seemed by those eyes. "I'm glad." Erik looked back down at his book. He clicked it closed suddenly, and stood. "Now," Erik adjusted his waistcoat, "if you'll excuse me." He turned on his heel, and left, leaving Charles shocked and alone in the dark library.

Charles stayed in the library for a moment, and then left, wandering again. He saw Erik several more times over the day, but every time they saw each other, Erik managed to find something that needed his attention.

Charles was getting frustrated. He was used to flings and relationships hidden under shroud of darkness and shame, but to be ignored completely was simply ungentlemanly. Charles huffed, thinking of that as he wandered down the corridor that evening after a rather boring day trying to entertain himself. He turned the corner of the hall towards his bedroom and froze.

There was Erik and Raven, standing close together. Erik had a smile on his face, and they were talking in low voices. Raven giggled flirtatiously in the half gloom, and Erik chuckled. He stroked a stray lock of golden hair that lay against Raven's left bosom, letting it trail through his long clever fingers. Raven blushed, and looked down. Charles took a step backwards, and the floorboards creaked tremendously, betraying his position. Erik looked up sharply, and his eyes met Charles'. Erik's deep green eyes bore into Charles like two twin green flames, and Charles coughed. Raven flushed even harder.

Charles steeled himself, and then rushed forward, brushing past Erik as he went to his room. Charles glanced up at Erik as he passed, and narrowed his blue eyes slightly. He knew his cheeks were burning.

"Good evening, Mr. Lehnsherr." Charles murmured. "Good night, Raven. Sleep well."

Charles slid into his room and shut the door with a thud. He heard Raven and Erik moving on the other side of the door. Charles leaned against the door face towards the ceiling, trying to decide whether or not his emotion of this moment was anger or despair. He heard a murmured word from Erik, and then felt the thud of his feet disappearing down the hallway.

"Charles?" Raven's small voice sounded on the other side of the door. She wrapped softly on the door. "Charles?" she asked again.

Charles did not answer, but went to his bed, undressing as he went. Dressed only in his thin undergarments, he crawled under the covers and lay under them for a long while, trying to sleep. He heard the nightbirds shrieking somewhere, and he turned over, trying to block out the haunting noise.

The old mansion creaked around him. Imaginary footsteps trailed overhead, and a bit of dust fell from the ceiling, but Charles refused to pay it heed. Curling tighter under the blankets, he convinced himself the noises were simply his imagination.

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Charles awoke with a start some hours later, frightened for some reason. He was frozen in his bed, over sensitized to the point he was afraid movement might awaken whatever terror had woken him. Just as Charles was content to believe it was some forgotten nightmare that had woken him, he heard it.

A giggle. A female giggle, soft and airy wafted through his door from down the hall, barely hearable. Raven? Charles wondered.

Charles rose quietly and lit a candle. Wrapping his dressing gown around his bare shoulders, he opened his door, half expecting to see Raven in the hallway, but the corridor was as black as his own room had been.

"Raven?" Charles asked quietly into the darkness. Nothing. Except the phantom laughter again, coming from down the hall. What prompted Charles to follow he could not say, but he followed the noise, and found himself creeping along the long corridors in the pitch darkness. He rounded a corner and saw a light flickering from under a large door. A door he recognized. This was Erik's room. And the light was no comfortable candle flicker or the gleam of the hot fire in Erik's hearth. This was firelight no doubt, but it flickered dangerously.

Charles opened the door, and immediately he was engulfed in a cloud of black smoke. His eyes smarted, and he saw the flicker of flames coming from where he knew Erik's bedroom to be in his quarters.

Dropping his candle, Charles ran into the bedroom and beheld Erik's bed wreathed in yellow, popping flames.

"Erik!" Charles yelled, leaping forward and grabbing the little basin of water on Erik's bedside table. Erik did not stir in his bed. "Erik!" Charles yelled again, gagging on the smoke. "Erik get up!" he shook Erik, not even noticing the way Erik looked as he slept-peaceful. "Erik!" Charles finally smacked Erik across the face. Charles saw the glint of green eyes flashing open, and then he was shoved out of the way, Erik leaping to his feet, coughing on smoke and ripping the curtains of his bed off their hinges, stamping on them with his bare feet.

"The curtains!" Erik snarled as he hit the curtains against the bed frame, extinguishing the flames that ate at the fine wooden frame. Charles did the same, and within an instant it felt like, Charles and Erik were left panting in a blue haze as a predawn glimmer lit the room in an acrid mockery of dawn fog. Charles stared at the charred bed, and then stared at Erik, who he realized was practically naked. All that Erik had covering his lean body was a thin nightshirt, with nothing beneath it. Charles blushed and turned away as Erik yanked on a pair of trousers. Charles saw a glimpse of the curve of Erik's fine, white backside, and blushed harder, twiddling with the ties of his dressing gown.

"Stay here." Erik said roughly, grabbing a jacket and disappearing out of the door, leaving Charles quite alone in the swirling smoke.

Charles looked out of the window, listening to the footsteps echoing mutely from above him. Everything lapsed into silence for a while and Charles waited, still standing. He jumped when the door swung open again and Erik reappeared, looking haggard and stressed. He pulled back his loose hair from his forehead and then stared at Charles.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a rough, gentle voice. He moved slightly closer to Charles, and cocked is head to one side just a little, eyes burning in the acrid gloom.

"I'm unharmed, thank you." Charles muttered. He would leave now, yes that's what he'd do. "I'll leave then."

He tried to slide past Erik towards the door but Erik half blocked the exit, his body close to Charles'. "You saved my life." Erik said in his low voice, staring at Charles with those deep green eyes like the sea. "That's no small thing. And yet you act like we're strangers." there was a slight question in his voice.

Charles swallowed, trying to keep his voice under control as his heart hammered away in his chest. "We aren't strangers, Erik."

Erik took Charles' hands in his own, pressed between their bodies. Charles could hardly meet Erik's eyes. He knew his face was on fire.

"Then what are we?" Erik asked. "Charles look at me."

Charles looked up, and found his nose touching Erik's. He blushed, and he could feel heat burst in his stomach. Erik released his hands and drew one hand down the strip of flesh between the ties of his dressing gown. His hands were hot, smoldering. Charles sighed, and pressed against the heat. He looks up, and sees Erik's blown pupils, and the scratchy breath in his throat. If Charles had been on fire, it would not be as hot as he was at that moment. Erik's lips brushed against Charles' in a butterfly kiss, and a low moan rose out of some dark place inside of Charles.

A dawn bird sang somewhere in the garden, and a cold breeze wafted over Charles' almost bare skin. This woke Charles up, and he stepped back.

"I need to go." he whispered.

"Why?" Erik asked, making to kiss Charles again.

"I am cold." Charles replied quietly, leaning away.

Erik paused, and then sighed. "Very well." he backed away, and let Charles by. Charles sighed deeply, and scooted past Erik. Erik followed.

"Charles," Erik said at the door. "Thank you." His dark green eyes shone in the dawn light.

Charles smiled slightly. "You're welcome. I'll see you later."

Charles turned and walked slowly down the corridors back to his own quarters, where he slid out of his dressing robe, imagining Erik's hands were undressing him rather than his own hands, and crawled back into bed, exhausted. He was asleep almost immediately, lost in two sorts of heat imprinted onto his skin.

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So there we are. A little more heat :) next up, Mr. Lehnsherr brings some interesting friends to the mansion and Charles finds that he has a rival.


End file.
